The Unlikeliest of Friends
by SUCH-mirth
Summary: This story takes place two years after both Draco and Harry graduate Hogwarts. A series of events end up placing Draco in a dark dank cave surrounded by water, and by the hand of the unlikeliest friend.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Eh, I attempted to write the second chapter of Rude Awakening, but I kept hitting a wall, so I deleted it. I'm still trying to get use to writing good slash and urg…it's harder than it seems; well for me anyways. So I'm going to give this Harry/Draco thing another try, with a different story line. I'm a sucker for sad endings, and romance never really works out for me when I'm writing, so there will be only a little. Urm…enjoy. And R&R is appreciated! _

_Warning: Language, Violence…not for little bitty kids. Might get a little raunchy, but not overboard. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plot I've created using J.K. Rowlings genius. _

_--_

_Present time. 2 years after graduation._

It was cold, dank and dark. He lived in a shabby little cave like room. No door was needed to keep him in; the dementors made sure of that.

Upon arrival a few months ago, Draco watched the monstrous sea that surrounded the shabby island prison, roar before him. If only he could jump. If only, he hadn't ended up here in the first place. Then he wouldn't feel so at loss, dead inside. Maybe then, he'd have something to live for but as it was, he couldn't harvest any good memories. Every time the dementors came by he could feel the air shift and he'd shudder in the corner, hoping, wishing and hoping once again that they'd leave him alone. It never happened though. Though it did get a little bit bearable after being there for months on end, Draco wanted out.

It was all that Potter's fault.

Damn Auror trainee. He was probably a full blown Auror now for catching the son of Lucius Malfoy. Everyone knew he'd taken the mark, considering where his fathers' loyalties lied when Voldemort rose for the second time and when Voldemort came to his bitter end, just two years before. Everyone knew Draco wouldn't ever say no to his father, and it made sense to assume he would rest his loyalties with Voldemort no matter how wrong his side was, but how the bloody hell had he ended up here, if he'd done nothing?

He wasn't the one that killed Dumbledore. He wasn't the one who'd killed millions of muggles and wizards alike to achieve supremacy, yet because he'd taken the mark, he was considered one of them.

"Damn you Potter. Damn it, you fucking screwed me!"

Draco pounded his fist into the stone, regardless of the hammering pain on the side of his hand and his wrist. It had been a long time since he'd seen Potter, a very long time. Sixty days to be exact; he wasn't sure, maybe more days had passed but there was still no sign of the boy who lived.

Yes, Draco was mad, angry in fact, but the hoarseness of his voice and his sorrow, made his tone lack in conviction all together. Crying was becoming second nature for Draco. It just happened, and just thinking about what had transpired between both him and Potter once they'd stepped out of Hogwarts, made his tears flow anew. To think he'd been so stupid. His stupidity had landed him here and he was certain a dementors kiss was apart of the equation.

He was scheduled in less than seven days to receive it, for charges he was sure Potter got out of the air.

"I swear Potter…" he paused, his voice wobbly and he really tried to regain himself as he fell back on the dingy bed, but everything Draco had once had; his confidence, his sneer, his smile, everything, was gone. "…I'll get out of here, somehow and I'll drive you into the ground."

To outsiders, Draco was just another crazy Azkaban inmate. He had all the symptoms; a will to escape when there was no possible way, false hope, and an assertion of a dim future.

Draco could hear the wails and cries of others, but he knew contributing would do nothing for him. Truth be told, his need, his want for revenge against Potter was keeping him alive. Further more, escaping this place was just half the problem. Staying invisible was the main problem.

_Rewind. 1 ½ years before Draco was sent off to Azkaban._

It had only been a few months since he'd been out of Hogwarts and he had no idea what he wanted to do. He absolutely didn't want to be a ministry worker and he sure as hell didn't want to return to Hogwarts for the open job of Potions teacher. Yes, he'd began studying Potions extensively over the last few months, but he had no intention of take a job that would never be fill wholeheartedly. That once was Snape's job, a job he visibly cared about a lot and although he was replaceable (seeing as he was dead) nobody would ever care so much about Potions as Professor Snape had.

It was actually very funny. In the beginning Draco laughed about how passionate Snape was about brewing and potion making, but that all changed when his head of house died.

It was weird how death did that to people.

So on a regular day, Draco Malfoy found himself walking aimlessly through his home, greeting no one. His mother, he never saw. She was always locked away in her room. As for his father, well his father was in Azkaban. Many Auror's knew very avidly that Lucius Malfoy was fighting on the losing team, and killing those on the other side.

So it was him and mum.

That all changed one day though, when the ministry decided to spontaneously send in a half a dozen men to search his home. All his memories growing up were demolished in so many ways and his heart sank lower when he saw Harry was one of those Auror's that would plow through them, like he was a worthless piece of trash because his last name was Malfoy.

Of course, his mother did no bother coming out of the master bedroom, in fact she went as far to lock the door as muggles did.

The day started out normal enough. Draco was bustling through the house, mainly opting to sit in the kitchen. It was the only place the workers didn't have to look for anything hidden. It was a kitchen for heavens sake.

"Nowhere to go, eh Malfoy?"

Thoughts interrupted, he turned to see Harry standing in the threshold of the door. Of course, Draco didn't need to look at Potter to know it was him, but for some reason, he was looking for some changes in the boy – wait no young _man_, he'd once tussled with on a daily basis.

"No. Why are you here? You haven't even been in the Auror program long enough to get assignments like this."

"I'm pretty sure I have been. I've been in it for well over a year and this assignment, is more of the easy harmless assignments that in the end are worthless, but still fun."

Harry laughed, crossing the threshold, an apparent arrogance etched in that smile. Since he'd defeated Voldemort, he was all high and mighty and Draco didn't understand that. Sheer luck had saved him the second time. Sheer luck.

Malfoy took a threatening step forward, his lips, stiff straight lines.

"Watch it Potter. Just because you've defeated Voldemort, doesn't mean you have the right to flaunt around like you own the place. Remember, Voldemort didn't just take away parents from you."

"And are you saying he took your parents away? I'd like to know Draco. Humor me."

The space between them was closing fast. Harry would take two steps forward, and although Draco stepped forward once before, he was backing away now. Something about Potter was unsettling. Scary.

_Clink._

As Draco backed into the fridge, he could hear the contents of it, clink together, causing a small, short lived jingle.

"Do not play games with me Potter! You know very well what you are inquiring and that it would be idiotic of me to answer. Do not throw what I say back in my face."

Draco clenched his fist, but Potter's face remained resolute.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not playing any games at all, although I do enjoy monopoly. We should – you know play."

Draco simply stared, shocked. He knew Potter could be arrogant, whinny, and very vocal, but two years out of Hogwarts and he thought he could play with ones mind. Truly, he'd thought not much had changed, but now he knew very much so, that growing up had come fast for Harry.

"Leave us alone Potter. I know you are behind this. My mum and I have had enough of this bullshit! Just leave us alone. We have enough to deal with without you people coming in and taking what we own."

Draco combed his hand through his hair, his eyes withdrawn and cold. Then he saw a hand to his right on the side of the fridge. He stared at it momentarily, before looking up at the pursed lips and green eyes of Harry Potter. Right now he wanted this fridge to disappear, to sink into the ground, so he would be able to follow.

To get away, Draco stepped to the side only to be stopped by another hand shooting out on the other side of him. He could say this; Harry had gotten stronger, while he'd chosen to remain slender and pale. He tilted his head up to look at the ceiling.

"Is this one of your tactics Potter; Because it isn't working. I want you people out of here. Jus-"

He was unable to finish his sentence because just then, he felt a warm, slightly wet touch to his neck; a kiss.

Draco stood shocked, struggling to turn around, but once his back was turned, he was face planted into the fridge, Harry's front pressed into his back. He could feel Harry's hands creeping onto the waist band of his pants and working their way in.

"No, this is not one of my tactics, but I've wanted to try _this_ tactic out. What really fascinates me is that muggles do it all the time, so why not wizards?"

Harry chuckled, roaming deeper, until he grasped the bulge in Draco's boxers and got the reaction he wanted. Draco gasped, and Harry would have continued, had it not been for someone calling him and approaching at a swift rate. What to do?

In a split second, Harry removed his hand, pushed Draco onto the ground, face down, straddling him, wand pointed deep into the side of Draco's face.

"POTTER? WHERE ARE YOU?"

"…And stay down! Don't try and get tricky with me Malfoy." A few seconds later, he feigned exhaustion, as another much older Auror walked into the room. He took one look at Harry on top of Draco, and a smile crossed his lip before it disappeared.

"Potter, let him up. It's too bad he's related to such a filth of a father."

Harry let him up roughly, his wand still pressed into the side of his face. As he eased him up, he whispered into Draco's ear. "I'll bury you Malfoy."

He turned to acknowledge the older man, gripping Malfoy tightly.

"Do not talk about my father that way! Have some common decency. I am his son. Get the fuck out if you want to talk bullshit about my father, but don't do it when I'm right in front of you, you damn wanka's!"

_Slap._

A cry left Draco's lips, as his face slammed to the side.

"No, your father had a choice and his choice was to kill the innocence. I will not have the common decency." The unnamed Auror said. All the while, Harry was standing beside him, a huge smile on his face.

"Anyways, we didn't come up with anything and there's also the fact that Lucius' wife won't let us in the master bedroom. Let's go."

"Nah, I think I'm going to stay in this area for a bit. Question some people, ya know?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure that some people around this area will spill anything they know on the family, considering the facts."

The Auror nodded, but Draco began wiggling violently to get out of Harry's iron grasp. Harry wasn't leaving, and he knew why.

"Hey, hey, you! Come back. I have some information and you know Harry and I don't get along."

That pretty much sealed the deal. Harry would be staying and the Auror would be leaving. They had no mercy for the Malfoy family, nobody did, but why was he paying for it when the mistake lay with his father?

The Auror's were all gone, and Harry had opted to move out of the kitchen and into the parlour. Practically dragged Draco into the room, and dumped him on the chair.

Harry was being a little reckless; he was aware of that, but he wanted Draco gone. Those years of Hogwarts were not forgotten and this was his revenge.

But he had no idea what his revenge could or would possibly work. He could kill him, but what would he be accomplishing and as for the unforgivables; those were spells he wouldn't touch in his life. He just couldn't do it, even if one of them was necessary. That was why he always had another Auror with him when dealing with rouge Death the company of one Draco Malfoy, was another story. Life as he knew it was over for him, and just like that Harry had his idea of revenge.

"Say Draco, what is it that you do around here all day?"

"Nothing Potter. Now, if you'd like to kill me, get it over with."

Yes you could say he was giving up. He hadn't seen his mum since three days ago and all he did was walk around the house doing absolutely nothing with his life. Now if Potter killed him that would all be over, wouldn't it? He'd just be gone.

But leaving his mother alone here, made him very uneasy. Death was tempting right now, but he had his mum to think about. He moved to sit up, only to be pushed back down with a firm hand.

"I'm not going to kill you Draco. I just want to know something. Why all those years of terror? I mean, is it the fact that the boy who lived rejected you? Or is it, that I had friends that liked me for me, not my family status?"

"No reason. It was fun. Get over it, we were kids."

"I will not get over it, Draco! You-you coward!"

"I am no coward, Potter! What would you know about how I was brought up? Do you realize who influenced me? Nobody ever gave me a chance to be Draco. To them, I was Lucius' son, bound to be just like him in everyway. Leave me alone Potter."

Harry bit his bottom lip angrily, grabbing Draco's neck and pushing his face into the pillow. Climbing onto the couch, he straddled Draco, the apex of his thighs just below Draco's buttocks. He could feel Draco wiggling, trying to get out of the death grip Harry held over him.

"I don't pretend like I know, but you had a choice! You could have been a completely different person, you could have been yourself, but no, you went down the path that your bloody father did. You gave people no choice but to look at you as your damn father!"

Harry tightened his grip, and finally let go, upon which Draco took advantage and wiggled violently away from Harry, falling from the couch. He stood up without a second thought, and turned to face Harry.

"You don't know anything about choice. Not when it has to do with this family. Just get the fuck out. We have enough to deal with. I haven't seen my mother in days. I don't need you trying to tell me about my own family Potter. I don't need your damn help."

"Maybe you do."

"I don't."

"Fine, but remember this Draco, I don't care if I don't know anything about your family; to me you're all a bunch of traitors."

"Get the fuck out! Do not talk about my family, you-you."

"Me what? Eh, Draco…what am I? Try and tell me.."

Draco, just fuming rushed forward, and in a blink of an eye, his wand materialized and Harry's back slammed into the stone wall. Harry's eyes closed shut in pain and an agonizing cry slipped past his lips.

"You're just like everyone else. You're no different. You were never a hero. You were simply chosen. Voldemort could have killed any family; in fact he took many parents away from children. Not just your bloody parents. Stop acting as if you're the only one that's lost anyone."

"I'm not, but-''

"Just leave and don't bother coming back."

Harry nodded, mostly in defeat, and Draco removed his wand from underneath Harry's neck. Draco watched as Harry left through the door. Draco turned, making the long hike up the stairs into his room. Lying on his bed, he couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness. He realized, Harry could have been his only friend in a time like this and he'd failed to see it.

Just a few moments later, a knock came to his door.

"Who is it?"

No answer. Draco furrowed his brow, opting to walk up to the door. Just as his hand landed on the door, the whole of the door shattered to pieces, blowing him back. His vision was fading fast, he was loosing consciousness and a voice was slowly soothing him there faster than he'd thought it would come.

He lay on the ground, his legs and arms sprawled in all directions, everything just a darkening blur of events.

He woke up, in a candle lit room that was not his own.

"Where am I?" he croaked.

"Where you won't be lonely anymore." The voice said. Soon after, he slipped back into unconsciousness, with another question on the tip of his tongue: "Who are you?"

_A/N: Okay, it's really particularly hard for me to write Draco/Harry slash because it's very unlikely that they'd ever…ever be involved with each other, so basically what I've done is take their personalities and changed them over a two year period. Harry's got the job of his life, he's happy. Draco is moping around and his father is in Azkaban (his family is crumbling), so he isn't as…Draco-ish as he was in the Hogwart days. He's still a bit of a coward, which is why I wanted Harry instead of Draco to be the one manipulating and initiating things. There, you either love it or hate. If you hate it, don't bother reviewing. ;/ _


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Finally updated! Sorry for the wait. School..and all. Well enjoy and R&R!_

_Warning: Language, Violence, Slash (Bondage), Angry Draco_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plot I've created using J.K. Rowlings genius. _

_Present time. 2 years after graduation._

It seemed that the days were always the same. There was never a streak of light more than a dim illumination in the distance. Draco always kept his eyes on the very spot – a spot he dreamed of reaching. A spot he knew he would reach, even if it killed him.

Draco stood at the cracked opening to his cave, looking at the unforeseen. He knew if he jumped, he would be lucky to survive. Landing on solid rock didn't exactly constitute survival and there were always the dementor's, but Draco was willing to risk all the strength he had to get out of here. This place, this unspeakable place was driving him mad. The wails and the cries and the sea below telling a long story of inmate woes was enough for him. He was at the end of his rope and it should have been easy to jump had a dementor not swept by him; rustling the wind and making him drop to his knees.

He couldn't do this.

He wouldn't do this.

But he had too. Revenge. He'd get his revenge.

Grabbing onto the solid wall, he pulled himself to his feet, wiping the grime from his face – or rather attempting to – he stood at the edge, his feet bare and cold. He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes and jumped. Wind rushed around him, he felt as if he was surging through time and space, but no, it was only air and he was going to die. Dementors whooshed furiously around him, but none got a stable hold on him.

He kept falling and he realized they were waiting until he died. Then, they'd parade him around Azkaban telling the inmates this is what happens when you try to escape.

His eyes remained closed and it seemed to take him forever to reach anything, but when he did, it wasn't solid ground he landed on. It was water.

Plunging below the black plagued water, Draco furiously kicked to get to the top, struggling against the current that swept him in a direction that was unknown to him.

Draco decided then, to go with the current. He was free, but it couldn't have been this easy. This was only the beginning; for Potter anyways.

_Rewind. 1 years before Draco was sent off to Azkaban._

"Harry! Get the pizza, will you? I'm starving!"

What had it been? A few months? Draco wasn't sure, but he was quite comfortable where he was: with Harry. Draco would have never thought he'd bee saying this in a million years, but he was.

He could remember their encounter very well; that condescending look, that over confidence flashing in his green eyes while Draco stared back, scared and confused. He would have never thought in a million years he would be the one thankful that Harry had knocked him cold and hid him in the basement of Grimmauld Place.

Draco didn't know how long he'd been here, but he hadn't seen daylight in a while. It was always Harry running errands and bringing the things necessary for his life to continue but, the one thing Harry could not fulfill was Draco's loneliness.

Draco was very aware that Harry had an important job and that he was putting himself at risk by hiding Draco, but for once, he just didn't want to be lonely. He'd been sending daily letters to his mother who'd been recently put on trial as a suspected Death Eater. Of course, there was no one to say otherwise and Draco was sure his mother would be reunited with his father very soon.

He knew he was next, but as long as he was with Harry he knew he'd be prolonging the inevitable and he was content with that. He could even go as far to say that he trusted the bloke.

"Will you just hold on a minute! Bloody hell…" Harry mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. A small smile curled at the corner of Harry's lip as he slipped into the dining area where Draco sat at the head of the table. Harry took his seat next to him placing the pizza box down. "Happy?"

"Very much so."

"Thank you?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

It was like this everyday. Harry expected a thank you, but Draco was always hesitant to say it. After all, this was just one form of Harry's torture. Draco knew, and Harry knew that he was doing a huge favor for Draco, and Draco didn't think saying thank you covered it all, nor did he think it was necessary to say it each time.

Draco glared at Harry, but quickly lowered his eyes when Harry glowered back. He was welcomed here as long as he followed the rules. Following the rules was better than being where his mother and father would inevitably die.

Draco took a slice casually, taking a single bite before placing it down on his plate.

"So, my mother, was she sentenced today?"

"…Yeah, I thin' she got the same sen'ence as yor fa'her." Harry spoke between bites, carrying the most nonchalant expression. It sent Draco over the edge – borderline mad.

"Could you at least appear like you care?"

"Bu' I don'. Not really."

Without thought, Draco grabbed the scruff of Harry's neck, leaning over him menacingly.

"Those are my parents! Whether they are bad people in your eyes doesn't matter! To me, they were good people and _you _will show them respect in front of me! You hear me Potter?"

Draco tried to collect himself, but his breath came out in strangled bursts of air.

"I'm sor-. I just..nevermind." Draco said, unable to form complete sentences. When had that happened? That was Potter's department – incomplete sentences.

Harry looked at him curiously, straightening his shirt.

They carried on in silence, Draco suddenly not hungry. "I'm going to bed."

With that, the scrap of his chair announced Draco's exit.

It was hard to fall asleep with the knowledge that his mother was dead to him now. There was rarely a hope of survival in that place and you didn't need to have been sentenced to Azkaban to know upon walking over the threshold you were a dead man – or women.

Every time his eyes shut an image of his mother, grime slathered on her face, a pained expression and distant eyes flashed before him; it was so real to him that his night was spent with the lights on.

When the clock struck 4 am, Draco angrily pushed his sheets from his body and nearly broke his wrist opening the door. It creaked loudly, but not as loudly as the sounds coming from Potter's room. He didn't know whether to think he'd recently gotten one of those muggle moving picture boxes or whether he was performing an island ritual.

But, he was angry. He wanted quiet. He was almost glad he hadn't looked in the mirror. He was sure he looked like a ghost:

Pale skin, watery eyes, matted hair, and disheveled clothes. He was the exact opposite of the god he use be in his Hogwart years.

His hands closed over the cold knob and he wrenched Potter's door open, blinded by his anger.

"If you don't fucking keep it down Potter, I swear I'll fucking-"

Draco paused and looked around the room. No muggle picture box, no radio of any sorts, just Potter, under the sheets looking particularly roguish and sated. He couldn't have..no, but he had.

"Oh." Was the only thing he uttered before he silently closed the door behind him.

He stumbled back into his room, his mind clouded with that look of arousal on Potter's face.

He crawled underneath the covers, trying to block out the thoughts that penetrated his mind and it wasn't thoughts of his mother this time. It was that look on Potter's face; that look of utter bliss and satisfaction.

When he turned onto his stomach, he was shocked when he moaned into his pillow at the sudden pleasure that warmed his belly. He looked down only to see that he was hard. "Bloody hell. This is just a mind fuck, Draco. Think of something disgusting and it'll go away." He told himself.

It didn't and the picture he was painting wasn't working.

Tentatively, he slipped his hands into his boxers, touching the tip of his cock with one finger. A wave of pleasure swept through him and he moaned loudly.

Before long, he had his hand wrapped around his cock and was pumping his closed fist slowly up and down the slick organ. He pumped in earnest, licking his dry lips and biting down the groans that came out anyways.

He was so close.

So, so close and then he felt his bed dip and his eyes shot open. He stifled a gasp, crawling into a tight ball.

"Potter!" He squeaked.

"You were making noise. I thought I'd come in and check if you were okay."

"I'm fine. Bad dream." He lied. Talk about Déjà vu.

"Maybe I should stay then…keep you company."

"Okay." Draco croaked, burrowing further under the blanket.

He felt the weight of the bed shift and soon, Harry was on the other side of him, trying to snuggle up against him. Draco shifted away, only to be followed by Harry. He knew if he tried again, he'd fall on the floor, so he submitted, willing his erection to go down. In his head he was screaming for release. One little touch and he knew he'd be done for. He didn't want Harry to touch him, but it was inevitable.

He could feel Harry's breath against his neck, ghosting over his ears.

"Do you want to come, Draco?"

Draco's breath came in short gasps as he shifted away from Harry again. He hadn't just said that. No, he was imagining this whole thing. This was a sick fantasy.

"This is not real. Not real. This can not be happening."

"Oh, but it is."

"No, this is just a mind fuck. I'm going to get up now and look in your room, where you'll be sleeping peacefully." Draco said it more to himself than anything.

He slipped from the bed awkwardly and stumbled into Harry's room a second later. It was empty – which meant..Harry was in his bed.

A longing pooled in his stomach, his erection unwilling to go away so easy. He walked back into the room, slipping back under the covers and closed his eyes. He would sleep now.

A warm body wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him closer. Draco felt a familiar heat return as Harry's hip grinded against his own.

Draco didn't know what else to do than moan in pleasure.

"Wha'…what are you doing Potter?"

"Harry." He corrected.

"Whatever. Just…I want to sleep."

"We both know you don't. I can feel you. You want this. You're not exactly pushing me off, are you?"

"Potter…" Draco whined. "Please..don't do this. We're…friends. This isn't what friends do." Draco said weakly. He'd grown to think they were on the same page; not exactly friends but not exactly enemies. He could justify that as friends none the less and this wasn't apart of the plan.

"Come for me, Draco."

Harry moved against Draco ruthlessly, their cocks sliding against each other added with the friction of their fabrics. Their moans split the night in half and opened up a new dimension – one that Draco didn't want to cross but feared he already had.

Draco arched from the bed, heat rushing through him, perspiration dripping from his face and a stickiness he'd have to wash away. In that time, he'd missed the wave of pleasure that washed over Harry, but he didn't want to see it.

Draco curled into an uncomfortable ball and turned his back on Harry.

"You fucking – you fucking IDIOT!" Draco cried angrily. He turned to look at Harry, a look of rage flashing before his eyes. "I'll kill you! I don't fucking care if you're an Auror or not!"

Well, yeah, Draco had turned completely sensitive if not mad. He wasn't mad at Harry particularly, he was mad at himself. Mad that it had come down to this; that he'd let Harry get to him in this way.

Harry lay silent with a small smile on his face.

Ruthless.

Draco could remember he'd been just like that and he realized, he'd created a monster.

A monster that was out to destroy him, not to befriend him.

But where would he go?

"Draco, it's okay. I was just helping you. You're not queer or anything. Relax."

"Relax?!"

Draco jumped from the bed and picked up the nearest weapon: a book. (How useful).

"Don't come any closer to me Potter. Do not even."

Draco looked closely to the man before him, his eyes squinting to see what lay in the mans hand. Before he realized it was his wand, he was on the ground paralyzed and drifting fast.

The last thing he heard was a haunting laugh and then nothing.

_A/N: Yeah, another pass out thing, but if I hadn't made Draco pass out it would have gone on for another two thousand words. So, next chapter is going to be a little better, because the Draco in the present time, is finally going to find Harry and things will happen. Beware angry Draco!_


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